Sometimes When We Touch
by HouseLover
Summary: She lifted her head up to look at him and her eyes asked the million questions that were racing through both of their minds.  Neither of them could think of any rational explanation for what was happening...  HUDDY.


He found her in her office working slowly over a stack of paperwork; the desk lamp over her papers being the only source of light in the dark room. She looked up when she heard the door open, although she already knew who it was. Normally she would have made a comment about his lack of respect for her privacy as he entered without knocking, but right now she just couldn't. She was too tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. She didn't want to fight with him tonight.

"Why are you still here?" He asked wearily as he took a seat on her couch, sitting down slowly with the support of his cane.

"Lots of paperwork to catch up on," she replied, looking up at him. She shouldn't have met his eyes. She knew he would be able to see right through her lie. He would see the truth that she hated to face every night. The silent drive home, the dark, quiet house, the empty bed. They were all just vivid reminders of the lonely life she was living.

He met her eyes and she knew that he saw through it all. But he didn't make a sarcastic, rude comment or joke about her love life this time. He just nodded in understanding and looked down at his cane.

_You ask me if I love you a__nd I choke on my repl__y__I'd rather hurt you honestly t__han mislead you with a__ lie__And who am I to judge you o__n what you say or do?__I'm only just beginning to see the real you_

A moment of silence passed before he got back up and walked over to her side of the desk. He placed a piece of paper on her desk and she looked down at it, scanning over the writing quickly.

Name of Patient: Jeremy B. LaurenceTime of Death: 2:05 a.m.

She looked back up at him but he was staring out her window, his hand clenching his cane tighter and tighter as he continued to look away from her. She stood up so that she was relatively closer to eye level with him, although she still had to look up to see his eyes.

"It's not your fault," she said softly and meaning every word of it.

"I should have seen it earlier."

"There was no way you could have," she replied, wishing he would look at her. He always acted distant and tough; pretended that he didn't care. But she knew that he did, and often wondered if she was the only one that could see so easily through his callous exterior. He gave a small nod and finally met her eyes and an understanding that neither of them could put into words traveled between them.

She reached out to touch him and could practically feel his pain when she placed her hand on his arm. He held her eyes for a brief second, but quickly looked away, unsure of what to do.

_And sometimes when we touch__The honesty's too much__And I have to close my eyes and hide_

Here she was, working in her office late at night after just recently finding out that her last attempt at in vitro hadn't taken; unable to go home because the emptiness caused her too much pain. Here she was, experiencing all of that, and _she _was trying to comfort _him. _He didn't understand it; he would never understand it. He suddenly felt guilty about it though. He wanted to be the one to comfort her, wanted to be the one to make her feel better just by holding her. It surprised him when these thoughts came to his mind, and he felt his heart race in both fear and excitement as he thought of actually doing it; actually holding her and letting her pain fade away._I __wanna__ hold you __til__ I die__Til__ we both break down and cry__I __wanna__ hold you till the fear in me subsides_

"It's not your fault, either," he said softly, looking back up at her hesitantly; the words coming out awkward and unnatural. "The in vitro not working I mean, not the patient dying."

She was about to laugh at how forced and awkward he sounded, but the look in his eyes said more than enough to know that he was being serious. "Yes it is," she replied, the pain glazing over her eyes once again. He wanted to yell at her, tell her she was an idiot, but the words just wouldn't come. He reached out with his arm that wasn't resting on his cane and he pulled her into him, his arm tight around her shoulders and his head gently resting on her own. It was the best he could do, but little as it was, they both found a lot of comfort in the embrace._Romance and all its strategy l__eaves me battling with my pri__de__But through the insecurity s__ome tenderness su__rvives__I'm just another writer s__till trapped within my __truth__A hesitant prize fighter s__till trapped within my youth_

He felt her arms hesitantly wrap around his waist and he sighed as she leaned into him. He could feel her pain, just as she could feel his. He let go of his cane and placed his other hand on her back, almost laughing as he thought about how this was the deepest conversation they had had in such a long time, and yet they weren't even talking out loud. _And sometimes when we touch__The honesty's too much__And I have to close my eyes and hide__I __wanna__ hold you __til__ I die__Til__ we both break down and cry__I __wanna__ hold you till the fear in me subsides_

"Maybe I should have done things differently," she said, a hint of anger in her voice as she pulled away from him.

"You're right. Maybe you should have done it the real way. You know, meet someone with some good genes, convince him to start a family, and then have wild sex every night until one of those little swimmers finally finds itself a home."

"That wasn't funny," she said sadly. He meant it as a joke, but after he had said it he regretted it immediately. He preferred it when he didn't have to say anything.

"I know," he said softly. It wasn't an apology, but she didn't expect an apology from him anyway.

"I just wanted this so bad, you know? I dreamed about it since I was a child, dressing up my dolls in little baby outfits, talking to them like they could really understand me." The tears started to well up in her eyes and he knew that she was losing her usual, professional appearance. "And now it's too late. There's nothing I can do about it. Nothing anyone can do about it; not even you. You think you can just solve everything; like everything is just a puzzle waiting for you to piece it together. It's not like that, House. You can't win every time. You're not _that _good. Nobody is."

She was screaming now, but it wasn't the pissed off yelling he heard coming out of her every day. It was different. It was real; they weren't just arguing about some stupid test anymore.

_At times I'd like to break you __And__ drive you to your knees__At times I'd like to break through__And hold you endlessly_

The tears started to well up in her eyes, and he was shocked to realize that it actually hurt him to see her like this. He thought to himself how it wasn't fair. What she said to him was true; he couldn't solve everything. He reached out for her again, despite her rage, and was surprised to find that she fell into his arms without a fight. _At times I understand you __And I know how hard you've tried__I've watched while love commands you__And I've watched love pass you by_

He held her closely as her sobs slowly faded away to a soft whimper. He could pretend that their embrace was just a simple act of comfort, like siblings in need of a familiar touch or show of compassion. But it was hard to deny the fact that he felt more than just comfort when she was this close to him. He thought he should pull away from her, but it was impossible. It was impossible for him to do anything other than pull her even closer, lean into her, and feel her heart as it raced in time with his.

_At times I think we're drifters__Still__ searching for a friend__A brother or a sister__But then the passion flares again_

She lifted her head up to look at him and her eyes asked the million questions that were racing through both of their minds. Neither of them could think of any rational explanation for what was happening but before they had a chance to think about it, their lips met and they both felt like an electric current had ran through their bodies, waking every nerve within them. They moved slowly and carefully at first, both of them scared and unsure. But in time they both realized that nothing had felt so right; nothing else was so perfect it could speak words that neither of them could ever say. And it would always be that way for them.

When they were working, they would be distant; they would never touch. It was easier to be rational that way. It was easier to argue with each other, scream at each other, and blame each other for stupid mistakes. The bitterness and anger they often felt towards each other at these points were probably what helped both of them save so many lives.

Those were the times when a patient needed saving or a medical decision had to be made. Then there were the times when they simply needed each other. She would touch him, or he would touch her, and nothing else in the world would matter but the two of them. Sometimes it was a way to find comfort or reassurance, to ease the pain of some situation away. Other times it was simply a need to feel the passion; to feel their hearts race in their chests whenever their lips moved together, their bodies hungry for nothing but each other. But most of the time it was just a need to feel close to each other. A need to know that there will always be someone there for them, no matter what._And sometimes when we touch__The honesty's too much__And I have to close my eyes and hide__I __wanna__ hold you __til__ I die__Til__ we both break down and cry__I __wanna__ hold you till the fear in me subsides_

_**THE END.**_


End file.
